


Open Mic

by WindyWordz



Series: This is Gospel [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura can play the violin like a goddess and sing like an angel, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Implied Romance, M/M, everyone knows they're both garbage gay boys who need to get together already thanks, feel free to indulge with me, genderfluid pidge, keith doesn't know what to do with himself, keith has a thing for lance, lance can sing and play guitar, lance has a thing for keith, lance is the entertainment in it's proper definition, more like "I don't give a fuck just don't call me 'it' ", no Hunk because he's the one who bakes the pastries so he probably gets out at like 4 lol, pidge is the barista, shiro works the small bar, this is purely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindyWordz/pseuds/WindyWordz
Summary: Keith hates the cold. He hates shivering and biting wind and snow. He hates how stiff his hands get when they're pink and frigid and how he has to bundle up in seven layers just to keep his skin from peeling via the brittle air.He does, however, like how it gives him an excuse to go to his favorite coffee shop, so he supposes it has its benefits.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to tag/show me in anything relating to this story, my tumblr is @Sasaina-Ai

Keith hated Winter.

That included the snow that clumped together on its way down and stuck in his mop of black hair, where it melted and created wet spots that froze over with the next biting gust of wind. And the mindless, subconscious shivering over his taunt back muscles when he was forced to stop moving and wait at crosswalks for the walk sign; the kind that rapidly clenched and unclenched the tendons, creating small but violent earthquakes under his many coat layers. Not to mention how quickly the heat was sucked from his fingers, even as they lay gloved and buried deep in his coat pockets, leaving his nimble digits achingly stiff and covered in pied patches of angry reds and pinks. The sky was always overcast and put him in a sulky mood, which made him want to close the blinds and slide under his many blankets for warmth, never to return.

But rather than huddle in his shitty dorm with its temporarily broken heating, trying - and most likely failing - to focus on studying for his Psych test, he was bracing this absolutely  _uncalled for_ weather to get to the café a few blocks down from his college. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with the one they had in the campus library, besides the fact that it was student-run and all of the students who worked there had quarreled with him one way or another, but  _Il Bacio_  was just better in his very personal opinion. If Keith considered anything a home base, where he could always go when he needed comfort and safety and relaxation, it would be there.

It had the right mood that hung over everyone, like gentle sunlight filtering through a lush canopy of leaves on a perfect spring day. The bitter scent of coffee mixed with the sweetness of the baked goods from the kitchen and the awkwardly tantalizing odor of booze from the small bar in the corner. A beautiful hybrid for a small café, considering the neighborhood. Brown wooden walls, varnished and rich in saturation, were decorated with tasteful ink pieces and monochrome photo prints all framed and hung with care, sitting below a pebbled white ceiling. White bay windows sat on either side of the beautifully cheap, white door that marked the building's entrance, giving any passerby a look into the room that seemed much bigger and more comfortable on the inside.

The music was always at just the right kind of soft volume where it was loud only if you focused on it, and easily tune it out if you wanted. It gently filtered down from the high-placed speakers, almost spiraling through the air on invisible waves of fog and coiled around you as you sat. It hung on you and made you stay a few moments longer, just a few moments, just another stanza and then you'll go, you swear.

But tonight was the last Saturday of the month, and that means it's open mic night.

***

 _Il Bacio_ was a relatively small (compared to it's neighboring restaurants and food businesses) café that prioritized comfort over profit, and that's exactly why Shiro liked it. It was quaint and quiet and familiar, the atmosphere soft and friendly during any time of the day, no matter how busy it got. Even as Shiro switched from brewing lattes to mixing simple margaritas once the bar opened at six, and Pidge took over the counter for the last four coffee hours, he still loved that fuzzy warmth it set in your chest as the wind howled dully outside.

Open mic was already set up in the adjacent room but the makeshift stage was empty, spare bar stool vacant until the first volunteer gathered the courage to take the pulled aside seat and present themselves to the room. Usually Shiro left the music on until someone stepped up, but he found himself motioning to Pidge to cut it sooner than he thought as Allura slid into the building, removing her hood with a graceful sweep of her hand. The bartender found himself giving her a warm smile to match the flush over her cheeks from the cold, which she politely returned and walked right to the stage, violin case in hand. He had no idea how she was able to find time for Open Mic nights in her busy schedule for the _Altean Ensemble,_ but there she was, striding in with all the poise of a front-row violinist, blatantly ignoring the flirtatious greeting Lance gave her from the bar counter. Shiro gave him a look, to which he got a completely guiltless 'what?' and sighed, going back to making the college student his drink.

It was nearly an hour into open mic, and Allura had all but lulled the audience to silence with her playing, a one-woman choir as she let her eyes flutter shut at the first draw of her bow.

 _"Everything stays, right where you left it. Everything stays, but it still changes."_ Shiro never got tired of hearing her voice, leaning his weight back against the counter and idly polishing a glass as he listened. Everything she sung was like it was out of a romance movie, soft and sweet and almost mellow in a way one would sing to an upset child to calm it. Her voice was soft but carried, pristine and clear as morning dew, and he felt his heartbeat flutter. " _Ever so slightly, daily and nightly. In little ways, when everything stays..."_

He heard a grumble in front of him that sounded oddly like 'wish I could sing like that', and Shiro cocked a brow as he twisted his head just enough to see an almost comically sulking Lance, mindlessly ringing a finger around the lip of his empty glass. His dark green jacket had sharp shadows from the way he was sitting hunched over the counter, the lighter accents reflecting the dim cafe lighting, and he could see the light tremors running through his body to know that the younger male was bouncing his leg restlessly.

He chuckled softly, "You sing well, Lance, in your own way."

The brunet sighed dramatically, pushing his glass to the side before crossing his arms to lean over the counter, "Yeah, but I don't sound like a literal  _angel_. And I can't play the violin." He huffed into his arms, brow furrowing over the light flush that spread over freckled cheeks. Ah, he was pouting.

"No, but you can play the piano," the elder man replied, putting his now-clean glass aside and taking Lance's dirty one, placing it in the dirty dishes bucket under the counter's shelf. "And the guitar," he added, knowing he'd seen Lance walk in that night with a series of poor puns about the weather and his decorated guitar-case. If the sticker content was anything to go by, he knew it had to be Lance's favorite acoustic. "Why don't you play something?"

"Because Allura's in her zone, man," the younger whined, pushing himself up with a sharp gesture to the other room, where the older woman was singing a new song now. Something about being someone's problem and Lance would have killed to make her  _his_ problem. Well, maybe a few months ago he would have, but by now the flirting was customary rather than genuine. "She's super into her thing and honestly, as much as I'd love to go up there and spectacularly put her to shame with my suave acousitc talents, I don't feel like being banned from seeing her shows, again."

Shiro only shook his head, smile a mix of fond an exasperated. "I meant  _after_ she's done. You brought Blue with you, right?" He cocked a brow as Lance looked back at him, tearing his eyes away from the beautiful mistress and her haunting melody. "So I  _know_ you came here with the intention of playing." He only got a grunt in response and Allura's song continued to filter through the air like fingers carding through silken hair.

***

Allura came over to the bar not half an hour later, not sitting but standing perched at the end. She'd taken off her jacket, leaving it folded and draped neatly over her violin case in the other room. She was left in a rather nice, blue shirt with a stooped collar that reminded Shiro of those bright clear skies over huge wheat fields, reflecting the absolutely brilliant shine in her vibrant eyes. She was smiling that humble smile that left Shiro with tingles racing over his back and his lips mirroring hers as his eyes crinkled shut. "You were wonderful, as always, Allura."

"Well, the audience was rather small this time," she responded, pushing back a lock of hair blond hair so pale it looked white. Her fingers brushed past her earring, making it swing gently, the polished gem rapidly reflecting the ceiling lights for a couple seconds. "So it felt a little easier to get started."

"I can show you something that's easy to get start-" Lance began another implicit pick-up line which Shiro quickly silenced.

" **Lance**."

"What!" The brunet squawked, lips pursing. 

"Don't give me that," the bartender huffed, already leaning over to Allura, who gave a disgruntled eyeroll at the youngest male. "All open mic volunteers get one free drink, so what can I get for you?"

"Shiro, you  _know_ I don't drink," The woman laughed, the sound coming off like a silver bell on a horse-drawn carriage.

Any chill left by the weather seemed to evaporate from his bones, "Don't, or won't?"

He got a more humorous eyeroll, enjoying the way her lips perked in an amused grin, " _Don't_. Unless it's non-alcoholic."

"I can make you a fruit smoothie. Banana and pineapple?"

"Much better."

"Woah, woah, woah,  _woah,_ " Lance finally chimed in from where he'd been listening, and they both turned to see a look of what was a cross between betrayal and glee. " _Wait._ Open mic volunteers get a free drink? Like, any drink, at all, whatsoever?"

Naturally, that was something that piqued his interest. Shiro gave a breathy laugh, "Yes."

"How come I was never told about this?" The brunet demanded, leaning one arm on the table with the other on his hip as he turned to face them.

"Because you're a huge lightweight, Lance," Pidge commented from behind the coffee counter, their voice jumping over from behind the blind spot where Shiro would bet solid money that they were messing around on their phone again. 

"Wow, alright,  _rude_ , Pidge!" Lance called back before turning his attention back to Shiro. "So if I go up and play one song, I get a free drink."

"For you, I'm making it three songs."

" _Shiro_."

"I'm  _kidding_ ," Shiro said, jabbing a thumb towards the open doorway where the soft rumble of quiet conversation was trickling from. "Go play something and I'll have you another margarita by the time you get back."

That was all the encouragement Lance needed, sliding his lanky body from the stool but leaving his had on the table for just a moment, "Extra shot of tequila this time." Then his hand was around the handle of his guitar case and he was striding into the other room.

"You're getting rather good at distracting him," Allura commented playfully, finally taking the initiative to slide onto a stool herself, legs crossing at the ankle.

"Not as good as you," Shiro countered, giving her a cocky smirk as he started gathering smoothie ingredients. "But I'm getting the hand of it." He laughed when she wrinkled her nose at him.

***

The first notes to pick their way through the scented air were soft and testing, some tuning as the notes would steadily rise to make sure they were just right. Shiro had already blended Allura's small smoothie and set it down in front of her, getting to work on Lance's drink as said guy tested the remaining strings and strung a few awkward chords. Pidge slid out of the blind spot and leaned over the counter, trying to look at Lance through the doorway. Then Lance was speaking into the mic.

"Ah, this one's for a guy that I'm really glad isn't here right now." There were a couple hushed laughs from the audience and something in the breathy awkwardness tinting his voice made Shiro think he really wasn't up there just for the free drink.

It was soft at first, a chord strummed and left to hang, the same chord again a moment later, rising. The transition between notes so smooth you couldn't even hear the scrape of calloused fingers over metal wiring. And then it was a double note, strummed repeatedly and began flowing downwards and back up, like a butterfly in the morning breeze or a snowflake spiraling in the wind. The notes were crisp but fluttery, the perfect accompany to the voice to come.

Shiro's enjoying those first few chords when he hears the door open and a muttered curse from behind the coffee counter, and turned to give a quick warning about language, only to see Pidge glancing towards the door. When his own eyes followed their gaze, he understood why.

Keith was standing in the doorway, messenger bag already halfway down his arm before he'd stalled out, door closing with a quiet 'thump' behind him. Dark eyes were trained on the opposing doorway, resting on Lance's figure sitting in half-cocked on the bar stool and the pristine Rogue Dreadnought acoustic guitar he was currently strumming, the instrument's intense blue hue reflecting off her owner's eyes like sunlight on the rolling waves of the ocean, the soft smile forming on his lips as his eyes fluttered shut acting as the cresting foam.

Keith's mouth was hung open a little bit, lips parting with a sticky breath, chapped from the cold wind. Pale cheeks were flushed and blotchy, eyes glistening, but whether that was from the cold or from what the younger boy was witnessing, even Shiro couldn't tell. But he could tell that it was a wonderful thing that Keith had appeared here, now, at this exact moment, right when the guy he'd been pining for was about to sing a love song just for him. But before Shiro could say anything to him, Lance was taking a breath and leaning towards the mic.

Shiro had heard Lance sing hundreds of songs and do dozens brazenly out of tune pop covers in Spanish, just to prove that he could. But sometimes it really hit him, how sweet the brunet could sound when he dropped the charismatically arrogant air around him, and presented what he was truly feeling under all that faux flirtatious banter.

" _I fell in love next to you,_ " Lance's voice was soft, like a hummed breath amplified only by how close he was probably singing to the mic so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. " _Burnin' fires in this room."_

Shiro couldn't see, only continuing his duty of prepping a drink for Lance; he was going to need it now. But the other continued his song, blissfully unaware of the newest audience member still standing in the doorway with an almost brokenly unsure look on his face. 

" _It just fits, light and smooth."_

Keith persevered through it until the chorus, but when the words rang out and that gentle Hispanic purr crept into Lance's voice, Shiro didn't need to look up to know that Keith had slipped back out the door. Still, he was glad he did, because he saw the other's bag sitting next to the wall, and the mop of black hair just barely peeking out of the corner of the bay window where Keith had stopped outside. Pidge was shaking their head, and when Shiro turned to look at them, they had this fond smile and exasperated furrow to their brow. 'Hopeless,' they mouthed to him when they made eye contact, and Shiro gave a silent chuckle. Hopeless indeed.

"Allura," he said, very hushed, and she turned to him, a small smile on her face. "I'm going to step outside for a few moments."

Her smile seemed to widen, but only marginally, "Of course." She watched her friend slip out from behind the bar, leaving the half-finished drink behind the counter to come back to, and somehow manage to stride quietly to the front door. He disappeared with hardly a sound, taking great care not to disturb the atmosphere with any noise the door might make as he closed it behind him. She took the straw of her glass into her lips again, closing her eyes as the song continued. She had known Shiro the longest, and out of everyone else, Shiro had known Keith the longest. Allura hoped he knew what a blessing it was to be him right now.

***

Keith was leaning against the outside wall of the cafe, ignoring the way it the snow drifted past him and collected in the curling ends of his mullet. They melted and stained the locks of hair a shiny, inky black, that mirrored the shock and almost child-like fear that was filling his dark eyes. He could still hear the guitar strumming steadily inside, the voice accompanying it all but a vacant whisper now that he was outside again. The cold seemed to steal away whatever breath he had left after witnessing that little stunt Lance had just pulled in front of him, making little ghostly puffs hover in the air before his mouth before dissipating. Another few breaths and he was reaching into his coat pocket for his carton of cigarettes, teething one out and sliding the box absentmindedly back into his pocket. His lighter was next, but he found it hard to light it with his fingers shaking from the cold. At least, he hoped it was from the cold.

The singing got louder for a few seconds and Keith heard the door open for one more click of his lighter before closing again without noise. He muttered a curse, biting down a little harder on the stained end on his cancer stick.

"You could at least stay for the rest of his performance before chickening out," came the deeper voice, still standing from the doorway it seemed. He got no response, watching the younger male struggle with the lighter a few more times before giving up, shoving it back into his pocket and sticking the cigarette behind his ear. 

There was a moment of silence after Keith stuck his hands in his pants' pockets, blinking at the snowdrifts gradually building on the side of the road.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Keith finally asked, gaze never straying. "Did I do something to make whatever malevolent force dictates our fates hate me?"

"Not that I can see," Shiro replied, shifting his weight. He was just in a black T-shirt with the café's name printed small over the left brest area, since the inside of the café was always nicely heated once it got cold out, but found he didn't even feel the cold. "But if you did do something, I'd say it put you on said force's good side."

"I just..." The other started, and was given a patient silence as he tried to find the right words to explain himself. His fingers reached up to pinch the brudge of his nose, eyes falling shut under his creased brow. "I don't know if I deserve  _that_."

"Of course you do." The elder's reply was instantaneous, almost cutting the other off before he finished. "Why do you think you don't? Because he's actually being genuine? Because you happened to walk in the moment he let his guard down and started singing how he felt about you?" He watched Keith pull in the corner of his lip and nibble on it absently, a little habit Shiro knew he did when he was truly unsure of himself or what to do. 

"Let me ask you, then," Shiro continued. "Did you like it? Lance singing."

Silence.

"Keith."

A small nod, almost imperceptible but Shiro catches it from the way a few flakes dislodge themselves from the other's hair and roll off his shoulders.

"Then come back inside. It's cold and you look like you're getting frostbite."

They both stepped back in, Shiro brushing off the small amount of snow that had collected on his hair and shoulders which hadn't melted instantly upon reentry into the heat. Keith didn't move to brush himself off, focus again drawn to the musician strumming his guitar on the bar stool in the other room.

Lance had his eyes closed still, the soft smile on his face peeking out from behind the microphone in-between words. He seemed to be swaying ever so slightly as he strummed, unaware he was moving at all.

" _...It's only been one night of love, and maybe that is not enough,_ _"_ Lance took a breath as he jumped chords, readying for the second choir verse. Keith picked up his bag by the door and followed Shiro to the bar, and the elder male noticed that Allura had kindly slipped from the bar and migrated over to the coffee counter. Both of their eyes flickered between Keith and Lance, knowing smiles on their faces. Shiro shook his head fondly and resumed his task of making Lance's drink for him.

" _Hold me tight, don't let me breathe._ _"_

Keith dropped his bag and slid onto a stool with a silent sigh, but Shiro could see it. He almost felt bad for his friend's inner turmoil, but knew that all good things came to those who waited, and Keith had been waiting a very, very long time. He deserved this.

" _Feelin' like you won't believe_ _..."_

**Author's Note:**

> YEAH I'M JUST GUNNA END IT THERE BC I'M CRYING HAHA I MIGHT ADD MORE LATER, STAY TUNED.
> 
> The first song Allura sings is called "Everything Stays". It's from Adventure Time, whoops.
> 
> The song Lance is singing is called "FireFly" by Ed Sheeran. I was really struggling between that one and "This" by Ed Sheeran as well, but that one kind of inplied that Lance knew Keith had a thing for him, which he's not supposed to.
> 
> And this is the guitar I was picturing (in Blue Burst):  
> http://www.musiciansfriend.com/guitars/rogue-ra-100d-dreadnought-acoustic-guitar


End file.
